Rockin' with The Raconteurs

I can't get enough of these guys. Made up of Jack White, Brendon Benson and two members of the Greenhornes, Jack Lawrence and Patrick Keeler, this band rocks my world. I can best and most succinctly describe them as just good all around feel good rock. And that fits into my mood. I had a good dream about my brother in which he told me he was alright and now I'm feeling better about things than I have in a while. So, here, have some good rock music from The Raconteurs and feel good with me for a few minutes.

Grief at Litha

Here it is mid-June and my eagerness for all things summertime is at an all-time low.  My strongest feelings about anything related to the heat is my hatred for the insects. Other than that, I'm just not all that interested or excited. I'm not interested in planting flowers or gardening. Not interested in fixing up the yard or setting up the pool. I've battled depression in my life before but the pain of grief is relatively new to me. Up until January I'd never lost anyone truly close to me. And the grief of that loss, and others, has sapped me of almost all enthusiasm. I don't want to pick up a book, don't want to make a collage, don't want to talk a walk.  About all I can summon the interest and energy to do is basic housework, watch tv, engage in various internet activities and download/listen to music. I guess there are worse ways to spend one's time but I'm just not all that productive these days.

I am trying. I've started blogging again which I think could be a good thing. I've done some late spring cleaning and I've nearly killed myself in the heat a few times as I'm very sensitive to it. But I haven't helped in that garden or really created anything new lately. I don't feel up to marking Litha with anything special, big or small. I wish I did, but I just don't. If I can get myself to light a candle that will be big deal. I guess it'll just take time to feel like working magic again, and I'm hopeful. I know that surely I've got to keep feeling a little better every day. I know it. I just wish I could hurry up and feel okay. I wish time could pass swiftly and get to a point where I don't have to remind myself of all I've lost and hurt like hell when I do.

All Things Considered

It's been a rough year. Death has been very active and especially cruel to my family lately. My brother died in January after being sick from the drugs for a long time. It's just about destroyed my family as I'm sure anyone who has lost a loved one can imagine. In one way it was a relief because he'd been in bad shape for a while and I'd felt it coming but mostly it's just brought tremendous, crushing pain. I'll never get over losing my best friend, even though he hadn't been any kind of a friend for years. Then shortly after he died one of my cats died suddenly and without warning and that was another blow. Then, a little over a month ago, my most precious beloved dog, Donkey, got bad sick and I had to put him down. It was like losing my brother all over again in some ways. I loved my Donkey more than many people in my own family. He was the furry love of my life and I'll never get over losing him. I'd never loved an animal before the way I loved him and I won't let myself feel that way again because the pain of losing him is sometimes more than I can bear.  I wish I had more words, or at least something cheerful, to say but I don't. I just know I feel like blogging again so here I am. I think it can perhaps be good therapy. So, we'll see where it goes.

Welcome to the Mother

I'm really feeling my age this autumn. And it's a good thing, it really is. There has been sadness, rage and tremendous relief. The Samhain season, and all its implications, has been in full force around these hills as of late. My best buddy, of the furry kind, died after more than 14 years of companionship and love. Our parakeet, who lived a long life of ten years, died a few days later. Another part-time indoor kitty disappeared and, presumably, went off to die alone. These deaths weren't exactly unexpected but sad all the same. And there have many other things, situations, trials, attitudes and habits dying as well.

If you've followed my blog for very long you're probably aware of the junkie problem we've been suffering for several years now. Well, that is now over and we are free. I won't bore you with the gory family details but I will say that now that the melodramatic screaming is over and most of the moving is done I, and the rest of family, feel a whole helluva lot better. There are still some serious issues to be dealt with and worried over and eventually - hopefully - worked out. But the energy level and the over all vibe of my home is vastly improved.

It's as if an enormous weight has been removed from my shoulders. It's as if the foot that was driving me, and my family, into the ground is gone and gone forever. And now that we are free of the destructive toxicity of overwhelming greed, endless lies, disloyalty, selfishness and thoughtlessness we are learning to live again. The world looks and feels different to me now that I can stand up straight and see with clear eyes. I know it's really me that's done the changing. It's as if my senses, my creativity and my magical sensibilities are waking up after several years of a depression so deep I didn't think I could ever dig my way out of it.

My old tendency to self-pity is mostly gone now. It's a time and energy wasting activity that accomplishes nothing worthwhile. The sweet, sensitive girl is long, long gone. In place of the Maiden is a much harder bitch goddess. The trials of the last few years, as painful and frustrating as they were, have toughened me up quite a lot. I don't even take much medication anymore. It's as if I really have gone through the fire and come out stronger for it. Horrible cliche that, but it's true.

I've been noticing a few white hairs lately and am slowly moving into the Alpha female position in my family. It's strange and yet completely expected and, in a weird way, fascinating. I've become firmly ensconced in the ranks of adulthood and am enjoying my membership in the club. I don't have actual children of my own. But I am the caregiver of my family. I'm the one who runs the household and makes sure everyone eats and has clean clothes, clean beds, etc. I said farewell to the Maiden some time ago, I know. Now I think I'm ready for the next step. Welcome to the Mother.

Thoughts on this Fourth

So the Fourth of July, the American Independence Day, has come again. We have a new president for this one. In fact, for the first time in history, the United States of America will celebrate the fact that we don't speak with English accents with a black man serving as our chief. Oh, how the times have changed. Our country is still in a helluva a lot of trouble. It took eight years of idiocy, greed, shortsightedness and neo-conservative tunnel vision to get us into this mess. So it will naturally take more than half a year to get us out of it. I would like to think, as I'm sure we all would, that things will get better. I imagine they will. Real steps have recently been taken to get us the hell out of Iraq, which can be nothing but good in my opinion. The economy is still in the toilet but I know it won't stay there. Recessions have come and gone many times before and this one will eventually run its course. And while politics are always politics as usual, i.e. more bullshit than substance, I do have some hope for our future. Say what you will about Obama but at least he seems to have a genuinely intellectual brain as opposed to one nearly reduced to mush by cocaine, booze and a lifetime of indoctrination by Christian Conservatives.

I once said the Fourth of July is The Great American Fire Festival and I still hold to that. It is our celebration of freedom won by fire, by bullets and cannons. It is a celebration of fiery bravery, audacity and pure grit. It is a celebration of a momentous win achieved during the hottest, fieriest time of the year in this country. The Fourth may fall two weeks after the Summer Solstice but the heat, fire and strength of the sun is still plenty strong enough to heat up the air, the mind and the soul. Now, as then, its strength and power can help us overcome apparently insurmountable odds. It's only fitting that we mark the day with barbecues filled with sizzling and sumptuous foods. It makes perfect sense that as our forefathers fired guns and set off cannons we today create our own deafening explosions accompanied by brilliant flashes of sparkling, shining colors.

But let's not forget those who have no such cause for celebration. While we're grilling food over the fire or blowing up expensive pyrotechnics and generally enjoying good times with friends and family let's take time to remember those who are still fighting for freedom from tyranny, oppression and cruelty. Let's say a prayer for those wounded and dying, but still brave, student protesters in Iran. Let's ask our respective gods, spirits, guides, etc., to lend some of their support to those fighting for freedom all over the world. Let's give something of ourselves to help those folks who are fighting for independence right now. If we can't send money to support a cause, let's spread the message of their struggles. If we feel we can't reach anyone with our words let's work magic to help them continue the fight. If we can't help them in time let's pray that their passing was quick and painless. If their oppressors killed them slowly and brutally let's pray that their souls can move on from their most recent horrible deaths and perhaps enjoy better times in a future life. While we celebrate our freedom let's not forget those who don't have it.

I wish you a safe, happy, informed and aware holiday.

Image from the Flickrstream of Camera Slayer, licensed by Creative Commons.

Atrocities in Iran

The hideous image above is an untouched photo of a student protester in Iran. This brave young man is in a coma as a result of being beaten by the demons of the current Iranian government. If anyone ever wanted proof that Islamic folks can be just as good, passionate and decent as anyone else this is it. These people are facing what many call the worst atrocities since the Nazis because they feel their country has been illegally hijacked by hardliners.

In case you've been under a rock lately and haven't been following the news the recent election results in Iran were, to say the very, very least, questionable. They were reported and announced in an unprecedentedly strange way and, even after many questions were peacefully asked by powerful as well as regular folks no answers were given. Hundreds of thousands of people took to the streets in numbers not seen since the 1979 revolution. The largely peaceful protests, mostly by university students, became violent when the governmental forces began killing people out of hand.

To stay abreast of the happenings in Iran visit the Free Iran Facebook page.

P.S. Be sure to check out the comments; Mrs. B. points the way to a Twitter page about this very thing.

The Great Mother Goddesses

Or, How Our Own Death Wish is Causing Many of Us to Return to the Old Ways.

Let me preface the following by saying I know nothing of genetics and very little of hardcore science in general. I'm probably going to use various, or many, terms incorrectly and miss the intended point of an important theory. So, if any of you science-y people out there spot errors I encourage you to correct me. Okay, on with the wild ramblings.

Have you heard of the Toba Catastrophe Theory? It states that roughly 70,000- 75,000 years ago a volcano on what is now Sumatra, in Indonesia, blew the Hel up and set in motion a series of environmental effects that caused a pretty drastic bottleneck in the human population. What's a bottleneck in population? That's when something pretty big, nasty and scary, like a plague, earthquake, ice age, volcanic eruption, etc., brings about the deaths of so many beings of a certain species that the descendants of the survivors are incredibly close genetically because so few were left to perpetuate the species. In the case of the Toba eruption it's estimated that perhaps as few as 1,000 breeding pairs of humans survived. There are also estimates that go as high as 10,000 pairs but either way, it was a pretty big damn drop in population. And it got me thinking.

It got me thinking about how many people look to religion and spirituality in hard times. Before I started learning about population bottlenecks, and the Toba disaster is just one of many, I had always wondered about the Great Mother Goddesses. Why were they so important to our ancestors? Why were they most likely the first to be crafted into statuettes? Why were they among the first divinities to be worshiped? Why were they, in many lands, cultures and times, the most loved? Why did they, above so many others, spread out from their homelands and find adherents over many continents? What's so special about them? And the most obvious, and somewhat unsatisfying, answer was that they were in charge of the continuance of human life. They were in charge of sexuality that led to conception, pregnancy, birth and growth leading eventually back to sexuality. They were the ultimate creators, the supreme progenitors, they were the mothers of us all.

Seems pretty simple, right? Why then, I ask you, did the worship of said Great Mother Goddesses die out and eventually become despised? What made them so important and then, at best, meaningless and, at worst, evil? I know, I know. It's the fault of the Judeo-Christians and their comparatively new religions. But things must have changed to allow for such a male-centric mythos to take hold. What could it have been? Answer: The population had long since stabilized and the need for Great Mother Goddesses had waned. Which means something major must have happened long, long before that to make the production of children an extremely high priority for nearly everyone alive. But what could that have been? Answer: An extraordinary drop in the population and the resultant desperation.

Now skip ahead a couple thousand years. People began returning to the old ways and the old gods about the time of the Industrial Revolution. Just about the time factories began spewing poison into the air, the water, earth and the bodies of every living creature on the planet a few folks here and there started looking back to the ancient religions. The Great Mother Goddesses become more and more important just as pollutants, pesticides and other chemicals started invading every aspect of life. It's not the same as a massive volcanic eruption, a meteor plowing into the Earth or the plague but we may be creating our next population bottleneck. As the human-made problems of global climate change, industry-induced cancer and infertility, and our own medicines poisoning our drinking water begin to weigh on us more people are turning back to the ancient ways. As our human situation grows ever more precarious the number of Great Mother Goddess, and other pagan, adherents has risen. Coincidence? I think not.

I don't think it's about simple fear either. If it were then many people would just turn to whatever religion is handy, whichever religion is acceptable i.e. the dominant religions, that of the Judeo-Christians. No. More and more people are turning to a form of religion and spirituality that is very much not acceptable to the majority of our fellow citizens. Why? Why would this current threat to our race cause such a thing? It's because the situation is radically different this time. It's something that hasn't happened ever before in the history of our race and our planet. Instead of a volcanic eruption or a plague or other disaster that we have no control over we are putting ourselves at risk. We are killing ourselves.

Our own technological advancement, our "progress" is putting our very existence as a race at risk. And because said progress involves a would-be domination of the Earth, untold and unnecessary cruelty, unparalleled waste and monumental greed many of us are not just turning away from the mainstream way of living, eating, consuming and working. We are returning to the ancient ways because we feel and know, at least subconsciously, that the ways of the Great Mother Goddesses, and their cohorts, are the only things that can save us. If we don't return to living in balance with the land and learn to embrace life, and all its joys and indignities, as sacred then we are doomed to destroy ourselves. If we don't return to the Great Mother Goddesses we are doomed to create the next human population bottleneck.

The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

Or, If You Still Aren't Recycling Here's a DAMN GOOD REASON to Start

What is the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, you say? Well, it's a huge floating pile of trash all clobbered together in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. What is it? It's mostly plastics. Plastics like that water bottle you just threw in the trash. Plastics like that wrapper you just threw out the window. Plastics like that gallon jug you left by the creek at the camping area. It's estimated that only about 20% of the trash comes from ships. The other 80% comes from land sources, like through rivers, drainage, etc. And here's the kicker: it's big. How big, you say? It's ROUGHLY TWICE THE SIZE OF FUCKING TEXAS!

How does it stay in one general area? This article from the LA Times perhaps puts it best:

This is known as the Eastern Garbage Patch, part of a system of currents called the North Pacific subtropical gyre. Located halfway between San Francisco and Hawaii, the garbage patch is an area of slack winds and sluggish currents where flotsam collects from around the Pacific, much like foam piling up in the calm center of a hot tub.

Pretty scary, eh? And this is only the biggest patch! They exist in all the oceans all over the world!

If anyone ever needed a reason to start, and stick with, recycling this is a good one. Why aren't you recycling? Too much work, too much hassle? You have a busy life, you have lots of responsibilities, lots to see, do, learn, people to meet, etc., and you just don't have the time for it? It's not worth the effort? I wonder what the innocent animals who live in the water think of your rationalizations. Some animals, like this sea turtle, become trapped and deformed by the floating trash. Some ingest it and die either from starvation, suffocation or from the plastic painfully twisting their innards. Some get trapped in larger piles and simply can't get out, so they starve to death with a clear view of freedom and food. From the same LA Times article:

An estimated 1 million seabirds choke or get tangled in plastic nets or other debris every year. About 100,000 seals, sea lions, whales, dolphins, other marine mammals and sea turtles suffer the same fate.

And if that's not enough to get you off your ass consider this: the trash doesn't just hurt the animals within its immediate area.

Plastics are derived from petroleum. The heat of the sun, as well as ultraviolet rays, causes the plastics to break down into water and carbon dioxide thus adding to the problem of global climate change. While it's still floating the plastic blocks sunlight, interrupting the growth of algae, which also adds to the problem of global climate change. You see, algae eats carbon dioxide, loves the stuff. There are even experiments going on to feed iron to algae thus creating a boom in their growth and a lowering of carbon dioxide. It's not just the animals who are suffering. By refusing to recycle we are, in effect, killing ourselves.

If you aren't already recycling your plastics, numbers 1 and 2, start now! There's no time like the present! There are recycling centers all across this land and many, many larger towns and cities include recycling pickup with their regular trash service, often at no extra cost. What's stopping you? Yeah, it's a new routine but once you've gotten into it you will be amazed at how simple it is, how easy it is. Rinse things out, get rid of the lid and label and toss the item into a set aside recycling bin. Then, either put it on the curb or gather it all together every few months or so. You'll be doing your part to make sure the Garbage Patches of the world don't get any bigger. You'll make yourself feel good and you just might teach your kids something about environmental responsibility. Even if you don't give a shit about the animals of the oceans at least get to recycling for the sake of yourself, your own children and your race.

A Close Call

This is the back of the barn, or what's left of it after the thunderstorm of this morning. I woke up about 7 a.m. to the sound of thunder and the feel of my Spikey dog shaking in fear. The poor guy is terrified of thunder so I put my arms around him and spoke soothing words to help him get through the storm. But the storm didn't abate as was expected. It got a lot worse really fast and the wind intensified a great deal. A great deal.
On an intellectual level I knew I needed to get moving and get the dogs downstairs and unplug the computer and see to the windows and whatnot. But I have to confess something: for a very brief moment the wind was so strong that I thought there was no point in getting out of bed because I was going to die before I could make it down the stairs. That's how strong the winds were.
Here's a picture of a block ripped out of its concrete home.

Let me put this in perspective. I've lived in the Ozarks of southwest Missouri all of my nearly 32 years and I've had a lot of scares. We've had lightning strike 10 feet behind our house. We've had lightning run in on our phone line and blow up our computer. Granted, the computer just made a little pop and a puff of smoke but the simultaneous huge crash of thunder scared the holy hell out of all of us. We've had an ice storm that turned our homeland into a disaster area. There was a time when we had so much water running through our driveway that we couldn't get a car through it. And we've had tornadoes jump from street to street and just narrowly miss our house. But I have never seen or felt anything like this. The jury is out as to whether or not we had an actual tornado do this damage or if it was just strong winds. I honestly don't know if I care.

Tornado or not it did some pretty serious damage and it could have killed us. If this force had hit our house instead of the very back of the barn things could have been a lot worse. I've already said it several times today and I'll say it again: if I had been given a choice as to where the damage would be done that's the spot I would have chosen. The barn is the least important of our buildings and it sits the farthest away from the house. The back of the barn is a good 200 yards or so from the house and there's a big ass three car garage between it and the house. There's also a bunch of trees and a short fence between the house and the barn which somehow managed to keep a lot of the wreckage from reaching the house.

The winds were so strong for so long I was expecting the big front windows to get blown out at any second. I was waiting for windows all over the house to burst apart with load crashes. I was hoping the roof of the house would stay attached. After it was finally over I was expecting to find numerous dead critters when I stepped outside. As it was we did have one dead tree frog on the back porch. Amazingly enough it doesn't seem like any of the barn cats were hurt. I don't know exactly how many live back there as they rarely show themselves but I walked all over the area and found no bodies. You see that smashed up metal fence? That was a nearly 8 foot wide circle that surrounded our compost pile. You can just make out the roses this wreckage is smashing. But we can't move anything until the insurance adjuster shows up sometime in the next few days. It won't be quick as there have been so many claims called in to our local office. And while I'm not looking forward to the $1000 deductible I am very thankful that the damage wasn't any worse.

In the above image you can just make out part of the 80 feet of wiring that was pulled out.

I'm not entirely sure the depth of the situation has set in. I'm not ready for philosophical musings. The facts are too close to me right now. I am unable to clearly express myself about this. I haven't had time to gain perspective as I'm still kinda freaked out. I probably won't sleep for a while for fear of a similar rude awakening. Perhaps in the coming days, or months, I'll have something profound to say about the happenings of today. For now though, all I can come up with is "holy shit!" and "praise the gods!"

R.I.P Andy Hallet

Shit. I mean damnit to hell! Dead at 33, from heart disease! If you're not a fan of the Joss Whedon universe I imagine you couldn't give less than two shits about this but I'm really bummed. Hallet as Lorne was one of my all-time favorite Whedon characters.

Here's a very short clip from the second season of Angel. For those that don't know, that is him singing, no syncing. Lorne was my favorite character from the entire 5 years of the show. Can't believe it, he was only 33!

Beliefs After Death

Several examples of words of wisdom have been running through my head lately. "Your thoughts make your reality" is the most prevalent. And what I've gotten to wondering about is how our thoughts and beliefs affect us after we die. For instance, if we firmly, truly, sincerely think and believe in every fiber of our beings that we will reincarnate as a human, does the strength of our thoughts make it happen? I can also turn it around and look at it from an Abrahamic perspective. If an individual truly thinks and believes they are going to hell does the power of their mind actually cause it to happen?

I've been wondering about this since I began taking a closer look at humorous bits about the afterlife. For instance, Bill Hicks, who was a consummate smoker, has a bit about arriving at heaven and being asked "Got a light"? He's later told by Saint Peter that "these aren't clouds, this is cigarette smoke" and that all the non-smokers are in hell. This is just one example that has got me thinking lately.

If our thoughts define the reality of our daily lives wouldn't it stand to reason that those thoughts would create the reality of our afterlives as well? Or is the power of our thoughts only tied to our physical bodies? And, if so, how does this relate to the mind/body connection? As you can see I've got more questions than answers so I'm eager to learn what my readers and fellow bloggers think.

Graveyard Dirt for Magic

[Most of the following facts can be found at Lucky Mojo. And while my opinions and ideas are liberally sprinkled throughout the ultimate source is the Lucky Mojo page. I'm blogging about this mostly for my own sake; once I write about something I have a much firmer hold on it.]

I'm researching various magical methods of removing a particularly negative person from my life and that of my family. One of the things I'm currently thinking about a lot is the use of graveyard dirt in folk magic, specifically hoodoo. In hoodoo there are three uses for graveyard dirt: for protection work, for a trick involving an enemy and love spells. But there's more to using graveyard dirt than just the trick at hand. First of all, you've got to realize that by using dirt from a grave you are invoking the spirit of the deceased. You are seeking to employ the spirit of a dead person to do magical work for you. You must be prepared for this. If you use dirt from the grave of one who died violently, for instance, there's no knowing what kind of result you'll get. Some say that if you use dirt from the grave of a child the spirit will be more docile. Still others say that the grave dirt from a child will be weak, magically speaking. Most of the time, you just can't be sure. According to the Lucky Mojo section on graveyard dirt:

Unless the spirit of a grave mentally reaches out to you first -- which often happens -- the only way to learn what that spirit will or will not do for you is to approach the grave, state your proposal, and *listen* to what you are told.

If possible it is beneficial to decide, based on your intent, whose grave dirt you'll need. If you're intent involves love, protection or something positive for yourself then it's considered best to use dirt from the grave of a loved one who will kindly work for you. If you wish to do harm you might consider the grave dirt from an individual who was unjustly executed and would be filled with a desire for vengeance. The grave dirt belonging to a soldier is said to be particularly brave, strong and obedient. It really depends on your intent and what you can learn about the deceased.

Once you've made your decision, or been invited to a particular grave, you must buy the dirt. By doing this you are also employing that spirit to help you in your endeavor. There are several different forms of payment according to hoodoo lore. Some say a bright, shiny dime is appropriate, some say three pennies, some say 13 pennies, and some say a shot of booze. At any rate, the price is minimal. It is the asking and the gesture of offering payment that seems to be important.

As an aside, there is a weird story perpetuated by some new age authors that the term "graveyard dirt" is a euphemism for mullein or other herbs and has been such for hundreds of years. This is total bullshit. There are several problems with this "theory". First of all, this idea sprang from occult suppliers in the 1940s that feared the legal problems involved with interstate commerce and grave tampering and so discontinued offering real grave dirt through their catalogs. One could still buy grave dirt at a local shop, or through the local root worker, but not through the mail. What's more, there are many accounts of the use of actual, factual graveyard dirt.

Against a few modern white authors claiming that "graveyard dirt" is a secret code for mullein herb, we have evidence that the folklorist Harry M. Hyatt interviewed hundreds of black people in the late 1930s who told him the proper ways they knew to collect and pay for graveyard dirt -- and NONE of them mentioned mullein.

Take the dirt from the seventh grave from the gates, they told him, or from the third grave on the left, or from any grave; make sure you get it from the grave of a murderer, from the grave of a baby, or from the grave of someone who loved you; collect it at the foot of the grave, the head of the grave, from the head and foot both, from over the corpse's heart; pay for it with a dime, with three pennies, with a measure of rum, with a measure of whiskey; dig it with a silver spoon, dig it by hand only and use no tools -- their instructions vary, but they ALL are speaking quite frankly of literal graveyard dirt -- some even calling it "that old yellow graveyard clay."

The reason this myth has been perpetuated into the modern neopagan movement is kind of tricky. See, Europeans and Americans of European descent have a cultural taboo against messing with graves. And part of their way of dealing with that is to rewrite traditions from other cultures to make them more palatable. This is, in a word, bullshit. It is what it is and if you can't handle that you've got no business dealing with it. The way I figure it grinding up dried mullein or using talcum powder can in no way substitute for the employment of a spirit who will work for you. That seems to be a no-brainer. So, if some author makes the claim that the term "graveyard dirt" is a euphemism you can be sure they are only regurgitating what the unlearned have told them, have no real scholarship to back up this claim and are full of shit. Oh yeah, and they're probably in it for the money and their magic isn't very effective.

So, that's the basics regarding the magical uses of graveyard dirt in hoodoo. And while I think it sounds very worthwhile I have a dilemma. I live in a teeny tiny town with more churches than stores. And while I happen to live just down the road from a cemetery just across the quiet, little road are a whole slew of newly built houses full of yuppies. And I'm quite nervous about being seen, questioned and perhaps even arrested. There's actually another tiny graveyard a little closer to me, but it's fenced off out in a field. It's one of those little old family plots from an old farming family. I find those to be the most interesting cemeteries as they're usually very old and only include a half-dozen or so graves. I would like to perhaps use dirt from that particular spot but it's totally inaccessible. So, I'm in a conundrum.

After rereading the Lucky Mojo page about graveyard dirt I came across something I apparently skimmed over the first few times.

An African-American candle store owner in Oakland, California, back in the 1960s -- said to use the dirt from the grave of someone who had loved you in life. He said, "Your grandmother, mother, father; your lover, husband, or wife who passed on before you -- you get dirt from THEIR grave only, and not from anywhere on the grave either, but from over the HEART."

When I told him that all my relatives who had died were buried far away and I could not get to their graves, he said, "Everybody has had at least ONE person to love them, even if it was just a little yellow spotted dog." I told him I had once had a cat who loved me and that I knew where she was buried. "Then you can use the dirt from her grave," he said.

Now, the above is in reference to a love spell but I've been thinking about it and decided that I think I would prefer to use the grave dirt of some person or animal who had loved me for this, or any, working involving grave dirt. It just seems that, no matter what the magical intent, a loved one would be much more willing to work for me than a total stranger. Also, this idea of using grave dirt from a pet's grave could make things easier. Being that I have always lived in a zoo-like environment with many, many critters we have our own little graveyard. And as I consider animals to be just as important as humans I don't see why their spirits couldn't be of magical help. That said I'm also considering approaching my maternal grandmothers grave in the next town over. I feel pretty certain that she would be willing to help me with this particular problem. So, I've got some thinking and deciding to do.

What do you think?

Inanna

Let me start off by saying that, according to historians, Inanna is the Sumerian version of the Akkadian goddess Ishtar. I'm not sure I fully accept this. As a hard polytheist, or a hard ass depending on who you ask, I usually tend to think of goddesses as individuals and generally dislike equating various deities with others of similar character. But, in this case, I'll agree that they are pretty similar. So, for the purposes of this blog I won't be treating Ishtar to her own post.

Like more than one Middle Eastern goddess Inanna is closely associated with the planet Venus. It represented a dual nature; hence, Inanna is a goddess of love and war. Although she is linked with fertility she is most definitely not a mother goddess of any sort. She has an unquenchable lust for sex and love as well as war and blood. Her iconography includes the eight pointed star, also called a rosette, and lions. She is sometimes shown standing atop them. She is most closely associated with the city of Uruk in modern day Iraq.

My favorite, and the most popular, Inanna story is that of her descent to the Underworld. Before she presents herself at the gates she makes a backup plan with her servant Ninshubar. Knowing the potential danger of such an undertaking, and how much it will piss off the reigning powers, she dresses up in all her finest, including magical amulets, jewels and so on. When she reaches the first gate she demands to enter on the pretext of attending a funeral, even though she is dressed inappropriately for such an event. Before admitting her the dutiful gatekeeper informs his mistress, Erishkigal, Queen of the Underworld, and Inanna's sister, of her request. Erishkigal is not pleased, to say the least, and orders that all of the seven gates be locked before Inanna can enter. As she passes through each gate she is required to remove one item of her regalia. When she finally reaches the throne of Erishkigal she is completely naked and defenseless. She makes an attempt to take the throne but is quickly thwarted and condemned to die. Her body is hung on a hook and her contingency plan goes into action.

Inanna's servant, Ninshubar, goes into mourning and appeals to the gods Enlil, Nanna and Enki for help. The first two refuse on the grounds that Inanna's arrogant ambition has served her right and she has only gotten what she deserves. Only Enki agrees to intervene. He creates two sexless beings, perhaps to be understood as eunuchs or transvestites who performed ritual plays or other duties in devotion of the goddess, who will travel to the Underworld and save Inanna. They reach the gates and request the body of Inanna. This request is honored and the two then sprinkle the food and water of life, provided by Enki, on the corpse and she is revived. The lords of the underworld, however, demand that she provide a suitable substitute for herself and immediately seize upon Ninshubar. Inanna refuses to give up her servant. Erishkigal's demons then try to grab the various gods who had been mourning Inanna and she refuses to let them be taken as well. It is only when she sees her husband, Dumuzi, living it up on a throne that she indicates he will take her place in punishment for his faithlessness. In the end Inanna relents somewhat and allows Dumuzi's sister, Geshtinanna, to share in his punishment. They each, therefore, must spend half the year in the Underworld.


Now, obviously, there's a lot going on in this story. The Jungian interpretation makes this out to be a story of falling into the deepest of depressions and eventually returning to a state of normalcy. I can relate to that but I tend to think of Inanna's descent to the Underworld in more, shall we say, esoteric terms. She knows her plan is risky and that she may, in fact, die. She also seems to be aware that only by the intervention of other gods will she return from this most dangerous of quests. While she is eventually stripped of her finery and amulets they do ensure her safe passage through the multiple gates of the Underworld. This could be interpreted as the magic and beliefs humanity clings to when it comes to death. These things might not be rational but they will usually carry us, and help us, through our lives. But just as Inanna must face death naked and defenseless so shall we. All our beliefs and magic will only get us so far. We will all reach the ultimate moment when we must face who we are, who we have been and what we have done with our lives with nothing to help us but ourselves. Her futile and perhaps foolish attempt to seize the throne is an obvious reference to mankind's attempts to cheat or defeat death. But just as Inanna must die so shall we. And as Inanna's body is hung up on the wall and left to rot so our bodies will cease to be. They will rot or be burned away leaving only our souls.

The three deities Enlil, Nanna and Enki are also of great importance. Enlil is a god of wind and loftiness i.e. intelligence of the mind. Nanna as the god of the moon has close ties to astrology. Now Enlil refuses to help Inanna and this speaks to the fact that one's intellectual capacity doesn't do much for one's soul. Nanna, as a male moon deity is trickier and could speak to the fact that a prediction of one's death, or any event, can in no way prevent it. Enki, as a supreme god of creation, is also key. Mythologically speaking, he was considered a champion for humanity and one who seeks to maintain balance in the world. The message seems to be that Enki is a god worth appealing to in times of illness and grief. In my mind the food and water of life, since they come from a god of creation and restore Inanna to life, represent the semen and egg of humanity that creates a new life. Dumuzi is also important. He is a god of plant life and, therefore, food. His lack of concern at his spouse's death speaks to the fact that life, for those left behind, goes on despite the loss of one person. As a dying god his fate of spending half the year in the Underworld is a pat explanation of the seasons, in much the same manner of Persephone of Greek myth.

So there you have it. Inanna makes her way to the Underworld and, eventually and with the help of others, returns from it. Her journey is a reflection of the journey we all must take. We prepare for death in every way we can but in the end those physical preparations mean nothing and we must deal with our inner selves. And only through the intervention of the gods can we be reborn into this life. My interpretation is only that, one interpretation among many and I hope it's worth the cyberspace it takes up.

Original art by Lisa Hunt.

Kali, Frightening Benevolent Goddess

Kali is a Hindu goddess whose worship as a war deity goes at least as far back as 600 CE. She was originally of special importance to tribal and low-caste peoples and was closely associated with blood sacrifice. Her temples were frequently located near the homes of low-caste families or cremation grounds. In this aspect she is a fierce and frightening goddess of death and destruction who wears severed human heads and body parts as ornamentation.

In other sacred writings she is the killer of demons and with her spouse, Shiva, she is the creator and destroyer of worlds. As a goddess of death she triumphs over death and can be seen as a goddess of salvation whose worship conquers the fear of dying. When the worship of Kali spread to Bengal, she began to be honored for her motherly characteristics. In one mythological story Kali, after winning on the battlefield, begins a frighteningly violent dance. It is only when her husband Shiva, in the form of an infant, cries out in fear that she stops her destructive dance and comforts the child. This aspect of the goddess is reflected by devotees who consider her to be the Mother of the Universe. In her deadly form she can also be seen as a benevolent protector of those unable to defend themselves.

Another myth of the frightening dancing of Kali, that takes place after a battle, goes that as she danced existence shook so violently that the gods asked Shiva to intervene. He first asks her to stop dancing but she, being in ecstasy, does not notice him and continues her destructive dance. It is then, after Shiva lays himself down among the corpses of the slain to absorb the shock of the goddess’s movements that she steps on her husband and is ashamed of her carelessness. This story reflects the development of the inseparable connection between Kali and Shiva. Her wildness is uncontrollable and only Shiva can calm her and this expresses the complimentary nature of the two. The most common image of Kali, being that of her standing on the apparently dead body of Shiva, is linked with this story. It also relates to the idea that Shiva is powerless without Kali. He is the divine consciousness but she is the divine energy from which everything flows. As one foot is over his heart the other touches the Earth, allowing for the passage of energy through Kali, who purifies it, and then back into the Earth.



In the eighteenth century certain poets pioneered the idea of Kali as the Great Mother. This is a stark departure from her previous incarnations as she is completely without violence of any kind. This leads us to the present day when Kali has been appropriated by many new agers and neopagans as an empowering figure of feminine strength and sexual freedom. According to some serious students of Hinduism this is an inaccurate view of the goddess and is caused by a general lack of knowledge of the history of Hinduism. Whatever the case, Kali is worshiped by many neopagans and seems to be here to stay.


She is often pictured with dark skin as, according to the Mahanirvana Tantra, "Just as all colors disappear in black, so all names and forms disappear in her." She is the goddess to whom the other gods, as well as her human devotees, look to for protection. Her garland of fifty human heads represents the fifty letters of the Sanskrit alphabet and speaks to her divine and infinite knowledge. Her girdle of human hands symbolizes liberation from the karmic cycle of death and rebirth. She is the destroyer of the ego as symbolized by the severed head she holds in one of her many hands. She is rarely pictured clothed as she is infinite and there is no clothing that can cover her.

I've been a practicing witch and neopagan for nearly 10 years and am just now taking a serious look at Kali (and similar goddesses). Her status as a war goddess always repelled me and I was unable to reconcile her with my preconceived idea of all goddesses being "nice girls". And even though I am far from completing my studies I've come to the conclusion that though she can be terrifying she is a benevolent goddess. As a goddess of war she would seem to be an evil deity but the more I think about it the more I realize: as much as I may not like it, a war deity is necessary. War may not always be justified but, as long as humanity persists, war will be with us. And it is good to have a Great Goddess, with limitless energy and knowledge, in charge of it.

As a Great Goddess of death, war, creation and an overwhelming being of divine energy Kali is one of the very most complex deities. She is the slayer of demons who would harm the gods and humanity. She drinks their blood that would otherwise pollute the Earth. She is the divine mother, creatrix of all. She is the protector of humanity, the gods and all of existence. She is beyond illusion and delusion and false consciousness. She is the beginning from which all creation springs and she is the end to which everything returns.

Benevolent Goddesses of War and Death

Lately I've been thinking about goddesses, from various cultures and time periods, whose influence spread over not just positive things like love, motherhood and learning but also war, death and destruction. Goddesses like Anat of Ugarit, Kali of Hinduism, Athena and Inanna of Sumeria have especially been occupying my thoughts. These goddesses, and their counterparts from other pantheons, have always fascinated and yet repelled me. After all, my patron goddesses are Aphrodite and Luna, not exactly warlike beings. They've repelled me to the point that I've avoided making a careful study of them for years. I just took it in stride that there could be goddesses in charge of love as well as war and death and refused to look any deeper lest what I might find would further disturb me. I guess it just took me a long time to wrap my head around the idea and now I'm finally ready to put some theories and thoughts down in black and white.

It's not easy, or even possible sometimes, to pinpoint the time period when a specific deity becomes linked with a specific characteristic. Some things can be linked to the conquering of a city or region that leads to the incorporation of qualities formerly belonging to a local deity. Once cultures are absorbed into others syncretism between their gods and goddesses inevitably follows. So, a goddess that might once have been linked with love could, over time, merge with another goddess and thus become a goddess of war as well. But since the historical and archaeological records are oftentimes incomplete it's difficult to state with certainty when and how this type of blending takes place. That said, history doesn't leave us completely clueless, as will be seen in the weeks to come.

Given the complex nature of these goddesses I've decided to start a series of posts about them so that I might devote more than just a paragraph or two to each goddess. I'll start with the four mentioned above but will possibly discuss other goddesses as well. I'm really looking forward to making an in-depth study of these goddesses that, up until now, I've largely ignored. I also look forward to learning the views of others concerning these fascinating deities.

Fruit Trees

Click for larger version. I don't think I've posted this before. This is the remains of some fruit trees after the ice storm of January 2007.

Sick, Sick, Sick

So, it's my birthday and I did something I've avoided for months and months. I watched the TV news, CNN to be exact. And I'm feeling shittier about the world and the human race than ever. I think back to something George Carlin said: that he felt betrayed by the nation, by religion and by the species. I'm really feeling like that these days too.

Firstly, and the most obvious, we've all been betrayed by our government. We're waging a war under totally false pretenses and the only people benefiting are the oily assholes making billions of dollars while Wall Street has suffered the worst June since the Depression. Meanwhile, ordinary working folks are suffering under mortgages pricier than their actual homes and selling everything but themselves to pay for gas.

Secondly, organized religion is the pits, no doubt about it. If the Rapture of the Christians actually comes to pass, what then? The pagans and the heathens and whatnot will be left with a trashed planet and a trashed atmosphere and tons of crap to swallow. And if the Abrahamic folks are right about who gets into their heaven and who doesn't we'll be left with all the evil criminals too!

Thirdly, between the murderous bulldozer rampage in Jerusalem and Esmin Green dying on a NYC hospital floor after waiting 24 hours for care that never came I'm just about ready to write off the entire human race. I feel bad for the folks who were run over and crushed in Jerusalem. But I feel especially bad for Mrs. Green whose last day was spent waiting and waiting and waiting for help and then falling, convulsing and dying on a waiting room floor while security guards and other staff came, looked at her and then walked off. She must have been in all kinds of agony and no one gave a single solitary shit. I can almost understand why her fellow patients didn't come to her aid; this is a psychiatric waiting room we're talking about here and those folks are each in their own personal hell, trapped inside their own heads. But for staff to come and gawk and then walk away nonchalantly? It's just unfathomable. I only hope that her death may bring a little awareness to the hideous way we treat our mentally ill in this country. They are the butts of a thousand jokes and in many places, not just this particular filthy hospital, they are treated like shit simply for being sick. They are the weakest, most defenseless and most vulnerable people at the complete mercy of their so-called caregivers and deserve better than to be treated like cranky babies. What happened to compassion? What happened to respect for our fellow human beings?

Carlin would say, and did say, that everything started going downhill when the priests and the traders started selling us out. I don't know, I just don't know. Here I am on my birthday and I'm ashamed to be a human being. I'm baffled at the depths to which we have fallen. We are so full of promise, technologically speaking. But in terms of human interaction we are the lowest of the low. Are we doomed? Should we hope to improve the way we treat each other? Is there any hope to be had at all?

George Carlin

George Carlin 1937-2008

If you read your history you know that god is one of the leading causes of death and has been for thousands of years. Hindus, Moslems, Christians, Jews, all taking turns killing one another, because god told them it was a good idea. The sword of god, the blood of the lamb, vengeance is mine, onward Christian soldiers. Millions of dead motherfuckers! All because they gave the wrong answer to the god question.
"Do you believe in God?"
"No."
"Boom, dead!"
"Do you believe in God?"
"Yes."
"Do you believe in my god?"
"No."
"Boom, dead!"
"My god has a bigger dick than your god."
For thousands of years all the bloodiest and most brutal wars have been based on religious hatred. Which of course, is fine with me; anytime "holy" people are killing one another, I'm a happy guy......but please, don't kill each other and give me that shit about sanctity of life."

I know it's a cliche but the world has suffered a terrible loss. Many people say he was second only to Lenny Bruce but he was tops with me. I will miss him.

When discussing the possibility of an afterlife Carlin had this to say: "I do believe in the survivability of the human spirit. We were all part of a giant explosion once, and we've come a long way. The incredible distances of past and future internal time, the history of this whole fucking, vibrating, internal resonating mother mass - that's what I read and think about more than anything else."

For more excerpts check out fUSION Anomaly.

Hecate Night

Tonight is Hecate Night in honor of the Great Goddess Hecate. Although She has other sacred days within various cultures, the Romans especially honored Her on the 29th of each month, this is the day I and others mark as specially meant for Her. Although considered by many to be a Greek goddess She actually originated from Asia Minor, Anatolia to be exact. She later became somewhat incorporated into, but independent of, the Greco-Roman pantheons. She is a goddess of many guises including a mother goddess, sorceress, Queen of the Underworld and Queen of the Night. Though She is considered a crone goddess by most neopagans today She is herself a Triple Goddess and thus a Great Goddess. According to one myth She shares the moon duties with Artemis and Selene, as maiden and mother respectively, and is represented by the dark of the moon. But as the moon itself produces no light of its own it is in fact always dark. As such, Hecate is the moon goddess of all phases and stages as well as goddess of sky, Earth and Underworld. Without Her we would quite possibly have no seasons as, out of all the gods, only She heard the pitiful cries of Persephone and took steps to ensure Her part-time freedom from the land of the dead. Her sacred symbols are the key, as a guardian goddess of the Underworld; the scourge, as a herder and sometimes beater of souls; and the dagger, symbol of Her ritual power as well as Her ability to take life, especially that of babies who would otherwise suffer worse fates. Dogs are also sacred to Her as they are able to sniff out good souls from evil souls and as such Cerberus is especially Her friend. Crossroads, as metaphors for the past, future and present, are sacred to Her and offerings to Her are to be left in these magical places. In the past victims of violent or otherwise questionable deaths were often buried at crossroads so as to encourage Hecate to quickly take the deceased away to the Underworld.

The more modern understanding of Hecate is that of patroness of witches and mighty crone goddess. She is a wise, stern and sometimes cruel goddess who does not suffer fools gladly and will gladly kick you in the face if you deserve it. She does not coddle or baby Her followers but rather She challenges us to challenge ourselves, to incorporate the darkness within us into our larger souls and thus become whole. She is not to be trifled with, She cannot be fooled and She reigns over the unconscious land of dreams and that of the Underworld. She is a Great Goddess, some would say, The Great Goddess. All hail Hecate!
For a more exhaustive history of Hecate visit Wikipedia. Original art by Luis Royo.

Ice Storm Victim

This is am image of just one of the many trees that were taken down by January's ice storm.